Dream Catchers
by Skyward.Soul
Summary: Roxas lost his mother. His father, lost in grief, has moved them to their old vacation home in the small town of Clark. As if that wasn't stressful enough, he becomes tangled with a mysterious redhead who doesn't exactly seem to be the most normal guy on earth. Rated for possibilities of strong language, love, and mild violence later on. AkuRoku.


**Oh, looky here :3 could this possibly be a new story? From me? Wait..I'm alive?**

**Hehe..yeah :P I feel really bad about leaving everyone hanging on ****_I Hate You, I Love You_**** but.. I don't know =/ I guess I just don't feel that story anymore. I had it all planned out and I still know where I wanted it to go but the more I thought about it the more it started making me a little depressed and it was harder to think positively. There was just no good outcome for those two. **

**So, old situations aside..I have a new story! This is actually something I wrote a long time ago..when I was about twelve. Of course, it wasn't based around KH back then, but around my own original set of characters. But the more I've been thinking about it this summer, I think it actually might not be so bad as an AkuRoku fic. This is the first chapter, and yeah, I kinda cut if off at the end. Sorry. This is just to see how everyone takes to it.**

**I had tons of loyal readers and fans on my first story (and only story, besides this one maybe). So I'm hoping some of them are still around :) and will be interested in checking out what I've cooked up :3 I'm so happy to be back.**

**Enjoy this first chapter of my new story!**

**_-S.S_****.**

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Have you ever walked down the street and seen a little kid that you recognized? Have you ever thought about why you might recognize him, out of all people? My experience says yes, you have thought about something that happened to that boy many years ago. Some people think he can't really remember what happened, and if he does, it's just a tiny sliver of memory. They think they know how he feels. Well, let me tell you something. I am that kid. And no one ‒no one ‒ knows how it feels to lose their mother the way I did. My name is Roxas Peters. And yeah, I lost my mom. They called it an accident; said she was walking along the bridge railing and slipped over the edge. Some say it was suicide. That she threw herself over. But the thing is… my mom was happy. She loved me. She loved my dad. She was the kind of person who would throw the curtains open in the morning and sing you awake. She loved dream catchers and made blankets and baked pies and rocked me to sleep and played scrabble with dad and… she was my mother. I miss her. Someone knows what really happened. Not the police. Not my dad. Not even me sometimes. Sometimes, the memory leaks away a little. When I'm happy. But it always, always comes back.

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_I was running. Running as fast as I could over the cobblestone path. I glanced over my shoulder. The road behind me was empty, where just a moment ago, there'd been a giant figure. I had to get out. The dream was the same every time, though the exit varied night after night._

_I glanced back again, stumbling when my foot caught a crack in the cobblestone below me. The figure materialized in the corner of my vision as I hit the ground. My head turned, my eyes took in the sight of my attacker, my lungs expanded to prepare for the scream building inside me. But when I opened my mouth, the dark figure screeched and lunged at me with bared teeth._

_I felt a sharp pain in the side of my neck. I felt liquid seep down my arms. I felt the anger and victory in my murderer's growl. And I felt my scream shrink, felt it float away with the last of my breath…_

"Roxas! Wake up or you'll be late for school!"

I sit up, gasping, in my bed. A quick glance around tells me I'm at home, in my room. Safe. I am safe. My sheets are soaked with sweat. The dreams have never come that close before; never to the point of actually dying.

Trying to push the thoughts from my mind, I breathe slowly and deeply. I stand up, get dressed, shove all my supplies into my backpack, and walk out the front door with a piece of toast clenched between my teeth.

"Dad," I say around the food, shifting the bag on my shoulder. He's hunched over in the front yard, already working on the new garden. "I'm leaving now. I'll probably be out running when you get home."

He looks up at me with tired brown eyes and wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. My stomach clenches; he's so lost now, without her. Like part of him is missing. Probably because it is. I turn toward the street and leave him alone with his plants.

My eyes sting from the wind. It looks like there's going to be a storm soon. The sky's not usually this pale. Clouds cover the white sky like gray ice; stretched out like a long, foggy blanket. My mom used to love days like this, when the gentle smell of rain fills the air. Pale light streams all around me, throwing the world into white mist.

Walking to school has its benefits. One, I get a little more alone time than I would if I let dad give me a ride. Two, I like hearing my feet crunch against the twigs and dirt on the side of the road. The high school isn't too far. Once I reach the main street it's only about a fifteen minute walk. Besides, it gives me plenty of time to think before I'm submerged into a town of people I've never even met before in my life.

When he could no longer stand living in the family house he'd shared with my mother for so long before her death, Dad insisted we move here, to Clark. Five hours away from our home. To the house we only stayed in on summer vacations. The house my mom loved. Not many people live here, which means almost everyone at school must know each other. Which means my chances of fitting in will be even slimmer than I'd hoped.

I pull my blonde bangs back, tuck the corner of them behind my ear. A new school, a new house, a whole new life. Dad really wanted to get away from everything at home. He misses her so badly, sometimes I hear him cry through the night. And his eyes are dull and tired every morning.

At least he doesn't have the nightmares. At least he is safe from them. They make it seem like she's still here, telling me it wasn't an accident. She didn't just slip. She didn't want to die. But every time I try to understand, the dream vanishes. Leaving me with the picture of her broken body lying below the bridge in the park. She used to have horrible dreams, too. She told me once, when she gave me my first dream catcher, that sleep was not safe. That people could invade your dreams and change what you believed, what you wanted to see. She gave me a dream catcher on my birthday every year since then. They're all hanging above my bed, scattered across my walls. They're supposed to keep the bad dreams out, but lately, more and more have been creeping in.

I walk through the parking lot at school, still shaking off the memory of last night's dream. People stare at me and turn to whisper to others. I wish I could hear what they say about me. What they're thinking. If I could have one super power, I would choose invisibility. If I was invisible, I could go about my own way and no one would care, because no one would know. No one would see me sitting alone on the steps, pretending to look for something in my bag as they all stare at the new guy with a dead mother. They should all leave me alone and let me be nobody. They shouldn't bother themselves wondering why I'm here out of nowhere for the new school year.

The bell rings. I scrutinize my schedule paper, absentmindedly adjusting the backpack on my shoulder. It looks like the gym is below the rest of the campus, so I find some stairs and head down the way the map shows. People are pushing and bumping me into others, making it even harder to cut my way through the crowd.

When I finally make it to the building, the last bells have already rung. There is a large group of teens standing in the middle of the gym floor, chatting and shoving at each other. A blonde woman stands with a clip board, holding a whistle between her teeth. She blows it twice, causing the mass of people to slowly turn their attention to her.

"Okay!" Her voice is stern and loud, disrupting her gentle facial features. "My name is Mrs. Daisy, but you may all call me Coach. It's much easier. Welcome to first period physical training. This is not P.E, so if any of you are tenth graders, you need to go to the office and get your schedule fixed. I expect all of you here on time every single day for the rest of the school year. Do you understand? If you are late, I will lock you out and you will find yourself in detention. Is that clear?"

A small murmur trickles out from the group. Mrs. Daisy points a slender finger at a boy a few feet away from me.

"Starting with him, you're all going to step forward and state your names. I will check you off on my roll sheet. We will do this every day. The faster you go the more time you get in the locker rooms."

The boy steps forward and clears his throat nervously. I almost feel bad for him, I would be nervous to go first, too. As names start spilling out, I look at the boy next to me. He's at least two feet taller than me, maybe two and a half. His face is soft, almost angelic, but with sharp cheek bones and red hair. When it's his turn to step forward, I get a good look at his broad shoulders and lanky form. My face heats up a little and I look down at his shoes. There's no way I can be attracted to him already. I don't even know his name. I don't even know if I want to come out at this school.

"Axel Nightly," he says in a smooth and deep, almost soothing, voice.

I whisper his name silently. It's interesting. I glance up at him curiously and my gaze instantly collides with his. Butterflies ripple through me as I absorb the striking green of his eyes. Someone clears their throat, and I am jolted into the realization that it is my turn. "Oh, um," my throat sticks, and I have to take a minute to swallow before I can continue. "Roxas Peters. Sorry," I shrug at the teacher, who nods and checks my name off.

"Everyone over to the bleachers,"she demands. "Your gym clothes will be distributed shortly. Remember, your parents paid for these so you better take good care of them. There will be no replacements if yours are ruined."

A boy with silver hair is staring at me. Did he dye it? I wonder what color it is naturally, and this makes me wonder if Axel's hair is actually red. Again, I wish I was invisible. He stares at me for a second longer, then turns his gaze to the possibly fake redhead. This boy is a little shorter, maybe by five inches or so, with a more muscular looking form than Axel's lanky one.

"Riku." I am surprised to hear an edge to Axel's voice, which was so gentle before. I glance between them. They look like they could be brothers, with the same sharp faces and pale skin, though Riku is slightly more tan. His eyes are blue and crystal clear.

He squints at me in a rude sort of way. "Well you're nosy, aren't you? Quit staring. Who are you, anyway?"

"I think his name is Rock-ass or something, am I right? He's in some of our classes." The redhead's eyebrows meld together as he speaks.

"It's _Roxas_," I mumble. My mind spins as I try to understand how he could know my schedule when we're only in first period. Riku stares at the taller boy for a moment and undergoes some sort of radical mood change as he thrusts his hand out toward me.

"Nice to meet you! Well, we better go sit down before people start to wonder why we're standing out in the middle of the floor for so long. She said to go to the bleachers a while ago."

It seems like they're going to leave me here all alone as they begin to walk away, but then Riku turns again and points at me. He's grinning. "Hey, come on. You're going to get a horrible grade if you move this slowly all the time."

I want to go with them, but my feet stay firmly planted to the gym floor. Something about Axel's expression says he doesn't want my company at all. "Um, okay," I try to smile. "I mean, if Axel doesn't mind."

The shorter boy's smile widens mischievously."Oh," he laughs. "He definitely does not want you to come, but it's not really his decision, is it? So you might as well just ignore him because he always has a chip on his shoulder and it seems like there really isn't anything anyone can do about it. Okay? So, let's go!"

Axel is practically shaking with anger. His hands quiver and his shoulders shudder minutely as he clenches his fists. How could he be so mad? Does he hate me? What the hell did I ever do to him? I think about stopping and telling them I've changed my mind and that I want to go by myself, but then I remember how much it sucked being alone and having to find my way around. I don't want to do that again. While I'm struggling with my lonely inner monologue, Axel takes advantage of the break in conversation by turning on his heel and stalking off. Riku gives me an apologetic look and sets his muscular hand on my shoulder.

"He's madly in love with you, already!" His cheery voice makes me giggle through the embarrassment his words make me feel. Can he already tell that I'm gay? How? And I don't understand why Axel hates me so much. He's never even met me before today!

"I highly doubt that. He looks like he'd kill me if I so much as breathed in his airspace."

Riku's grimace makes me laugh despite myself.

"Maybe, but careful about what you say out loud. His hearing is incredible, trust me."

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**Soooo..? What'd ya think? Please leave a review letting me know what you thought about this. Even if you hated it, I wanna know :)**

**If this doesn't get many reviews then I probably won't bother posting the rest of it. Even though a couple chapters are already written.**

**Thank you!**

_**-S.S**_


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